Lighting up the gloom - review of James Grant (Love and Money)

James Grant at The Forge, The Anvil, Basingstoke, on Friday, April 5

NEVER meet your teen crushes goes the rule - but luckily it all works out just fine when it turns out that they’ve still got a magnificent head of hair, a gorgeous Glaswegian accent, cheekbones that could cut diamonds, and a voice like velvet. Tennent’s Velvet Ale, maybe....? Nah - it would have to be a smooth malt whisky.

Back in the late ’80s, James Grant was the singer with Love and Money, a band of the Scottish blue-eyed soul genre (think Wet Wet Wet, Deacon Blue, Hue & Cry, Del Amitri - whose singer Justin Currie recently performed at Arlington Arts) who achieved reasonable success; mainly in their homeland, but also, unexpectedly, in the Upper V common room at St Gabriel’s School, Newbury. 

Deprived of much real male contact (well, some of us were, anyway), the band’s songs of love and loss moulded our expectations of adult life and relationships. They were probably a pretty good preparation for the world beyond the common room in fact, as Grant’s “miserablist” style of songwriting offers a realistically pessimistic view on life.

Nearly 25 years on, and Grant has continued writing and performing, both with Love and Money, who reformed in 2011, and as a solo act. While he has released five solo albums, he is not reluctant to play the songs from the past that are best known, and so we had the pleasure of hearing the gorgeous Strange Kind Of Love, from the 1988 album of the same name. Performed by Grant and his guitar, it was maybe even more lovely without the slightly bombastic (over?) production of the original version which set it firmly in an era long gone.

Grant doesn’t do upbeat, either musically or lyrically, and the old themes of love and loss are still foremost; alongside death, most poignantly on My Father’s Coat from his 2009 solo album Strange Flowers -  but the tunes are beautiful, the lyrics touching, and the alternately romantic and melancholy vibes showcase his liquid voice to perfection. An intimate gig in The Anvil’s tiny Forge studio also allowed Grant to display his dark humour as he told tongue-in-cheek tales of his young manhood as a semi-rockstar (he once smashed a typewriter) and the death of his family budgie.

I left the gig vowing to finally replace my cassette tape copy of Strange Kind Of Love, and delighted that at least one of my major teenage crushes had revealed itself to be well founded - and like the best whiskies, ageing very well indeed.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, April 11, 2013

Show me more - Chris & Pui Roadshow review

The Chris and Pui Roadshow, at The Anvil, Basingstoke, on Saturday, September 22, 2012

CHRIS Jarvis and Pui Fan Lee have been stalwarts of the BBC channel for under sixes, CBeebies since its launch in 2002, and worked on pre-school programmes before that (Lee was Po, the red Teletubby); so they are a dead cert when it comes to knowing exactly what makes little people tick.

As a result, their live show - featuring toys and characters from their current CBeebies programme Show Me Show Me - grabs and holds the attention of pre-schoolers for far longer than most theatrical productions. Unusually for a show aimed at very young children, it even had an interval - and yes, the audience did come back for more.

Fast paced, but not terrifyingly loud or colourful, the show crammed in seemingly hundreds of nursery rhymes, songs, counting, charactes and costumes, presented with such tender care by the extremely likeable Jarvis and Lee (or “Show Me and Show Me”, as my two year old calls them) that the concept of two television favourites appearing live on stage in front of them didn’t seem to phase the young audience.

I have a bit of a personal aversion to nursery rhymes, but there’s something so appealing about this twosome that I found myself joining in with the actions to “The Wheels On The Bus” and “Wind The Bobbin Up” with more enthusiasm than I expected; and with plenty of panto-style cheesy jokes thrown in for the grown ups and older siblings who may have come along, I found myself as involved as  the little ones.

I’ve seen plenty children’s shows over the years with my son, and with my daughter having the attention span of a gnat, I wasn’t particularly desperate to start it all again too early. However, if the sparkling quality of Jarvis and Lee’s live show rubs off on other productions for pre-schoolers, I’ll be more than happy to brave the theatre with her on a regular basis. She spotted a poster for a live Ben & Holly production on the way out, so I suspect I’ll be back in an auditorium with her before the year is out.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on October 4, 2012

A funny valentine - review of Sandi Toksvig

Sandi Toksvig at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Saturday, September 15

COMEDIANS often rave about the warm and friendly atmosphere at The Anvil, but Sandi Toksvig’s visit  generated such a tangible glow of love radiating towards her from the audience, that she probably could have spent the whole show explaining the rules of Mornington Crescent (the unfathomable parlour game played on I’m Sorry, I Haven’t A Clue) and still have been adored by every person present.

In fact, Toksvig gave us much more than that. Entitled “My Valentine”, the loose theme was a love letter from Toksvig to life; what inspires her to still find “delight in the day”. Much of her daily pleasures arise unexpectedly via her wholehearted love of books - not just literature of quality, but the fun to be had from dubious book titles, and a gem about the rules of golf during wartime, found while thumbing through an old golfing almanac (“A player whose stroke is affected by the simultaneous explosion of a bomb may play another ball from the same place. Penalty, one stroke.”)

It is no wonder that Toksvig has little trouble finding ideas for her novels, the most recent of which is Valentine Grey, and she explained the various inspirations for the plot, including the several women who are known to have disguised themselves as male soldiers (and many who were probably never discovered), and the horrors of the generally forgotten Boer War at the turn of the 20th century.

Toksvig’s anecdotes included touching tales about Toksvig’s late “showbiz husband” Alan Coren “We used to lie on his hotel bed eating burgers... it was like being an old married couple without the sex - hang on, that is being an old married couple”, her long-term friendship with John McCarthy, dating back to before he was taken hostage in the Lebanon, and her parents, who met at the BBC - “I have the BBC running through my veins”.

It was interesting to hear in Toksvig’s voice, not just the hint of Denmark of her birth which I always suspected bubbled just under the surface of her clipped English accent, but also the broad New York drawl which she brought to the UK as a teenager after years living in the USA. Such a globetrotting past hasn’t stopped Toksvig from becoming a truly British institution, but her description of Danish as a “peasant language with one word to describe one thing - although we have lots of words for ‘herring’” may go some way to explain her love of the intricacies and delights of the English language.

However, it was fun to learn some Danish essentials - if I am ever in Denmark to find that I have been made king, and need to convey my love of strawberries, I am sorted. There was also audience participation with a Q&A session, a silly little history quiz (I say “silly” only because I got knocked out on the first round) with the prize being not the expected signed copy of Valentine Grey, but a Moleskine notebook, beloved of many writers, to allow the winner to begin her “own writing journey”. 

The evening’s fun rounded off with a mass audience conducting of Beethoven’s Ode To Joy, commissioned by The Philharmonic Society of London in 1817 for £50 - “surely the best 50 quid ever spent”. I suspect everyone in the audience felt the same about the £18.50 they spent on their tickets.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, September 22, 2012

Show and tell - interview with Chris Jarvis

LOVED by pre-schoolers and their mums alike, CHRIS JARVIS has been a stalwart of CBeebies since its launch, alongside current Show Me Show Me co-presenter Pui Fan Lee. CATRIONA REEVES spoke to him about the pair’s live tour, The Chris and Pui Roadshow

CATRIONA REEVES: Show Me Show Me reminds me of the classic Children’s BBC show Playschool - is that intentional?

CHRIS JARVIS: Completely - Show Me Show Me is the direct descendent of Playschool, which led on to Playdays, and then Tikkabilla. It’s the longest show on the channel, and fulfils the remit of presenting a variety of items, giving more time to explore them. When I was a kid, there was only 20 minutes of pre-school programming a day - now they have a whole channel, with the variety that offers. But I still think that there’s a place in there for a show like Show Me Show Me.

Show Me Show Me is about showing, exploring and encouraging children to think about the world; because of course, everything is new to them. It’s a real challenge; it may look simple and daft, but the educationalists involved in the science behind it are amazing. My parents were teachers, and I find that side of things fascinating. CBeebies is truly a centre of excellence in the BBC; it’s chock-full of talent and knowledge.

CR: You and Pui have worked together since CBeebies was launched in 2002, first as the main channel presenters, and now on Show Me Show Me. Why do you think you work so well together?

CJ: Pui comes from a drama school and acting background - she was Po in Teletubbies - while I came from performing at Butlins - a great training ground - , via the Broom Cupboard [Children’s BBC’s tiny presenting studio in the 80s and 90s]. I enjoyed that, but felt that pre-school television was more in my comfort zone than interviewing popstars. I was really lucky to meet Pui, because she’s brilliant, and brings an entirely different set of skills, so it works really well together as a professional partnership.

CR: You’ve written quite a lot of songs for various CBeebies shows over the years. Is that something you particularly enjoy?

CJ: I’ve always liked songwriting, but in the early days of CBeebies it was done out of necessity because the budget was so small. I’m writing this year’s CBeebies panto at the moment, and the BBC Philharmonic are involved, which is really exciting.

I’m not the greatest musician, but I think it’s so important to have music and people playing instruments  and showing how they work, to light that spark in children. What we do on Show Me Show Me in general isn’t necessarily educational or informative, but it creates those poetic attachments to things. I wanted to play the piano in the first place because I saw Jonathan Cohen regularly on Playschool and Playaway when I was young.

CR: Parents might be a bit nervous about taking very small children to the theatre to see your show; is it challenging to create a live experience for that age group?

CJ: We assume that children coming to see us are coming to the theatre for the first time, and it can be quite weird, so we try and create a friendly environment. We keep the house lights up for the first part of the show, and it’s got a slow, gentle start to make them feel comfortable - it can be incredibly quiet in there. After about 20 minutes or so, when the children have seen us and the characters, the penny drops, and by the end the are all joining in.

This is our third proper year of touring a big stage show together, but we’ve had years of panto and live experience before that to learn about what keeps very young audiences interested. They don’t need big sets - they need new stuff to engage them every few moments.

After the first part, the show is very fast moving - we have 100 props, and all the toys from Show Me Show Me - but it’s not really noisy; it’s not a rock concert for toddlers. There are some quite sweet moments. There are things we can do on stage that we can’t do on TV, and vice versa, so it’s very interactive.

Children are very welcome to bring along a teddy or cuddly toy so they can join in as well - as long as they look after them; we don’t want any lost toys left behind!

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, September 22, 2012

Hearts and Bones - interview with Sandi Toksvig

WITH her fifth book out on September 6, radio comedy doyenne SANDI TOKSVIG is launching it with a touring show direct from Edinburgh Fringe mixing in stand-up, storytelling and hopefully some hot gossip centred around her career and her love of writing. CATRIONA REEVES spoke to her about her historical novel Valentine Grey, and the live show it has inspired.

CATRIONA REEVES: Your new book, Valentine Grey, is about a girl who dressed as a man to enrol as a soldier in the Boer War. Did you enjoy writing it?

SANDI TOKSVIG: Very much so. It’s taken about four years in total, and has involved a massive amount of research - probably too much, but it helps give a three-dimensional feeling to the book. I became totally immersed in its world; I even broke down in tears because I killed a character.

It’s a very odd feeling now that I’ve finished writing it - I’ve been working on it for such a long time, and I’ve had stuff all over my desk to do with it, which I only finally tidied away yesterday

CR: Part of the story focuses on Valentine’s cousin Reggie. She disguises herself as him to join the fighting, leaving him free to stay with his male lover in Victorian London. Was it important to you to have gay characters in the book?

ST: The gay element to the story wasn’t central to it to begin with - that evolved later on. I started with the central story about Valentine, but then I became interested in the character of Reggie as well, and his own battle developed. I find that happens with character; they take over and create their own story.

CR: Your live show is called My Valentine - is it all about the novel?

ST: The show does involve me talking about the book, but there will also be jokes and silliness; I’ll look at why people write and what they write about, and there will be a bit about silly book titles. It’s a mix of sensible and silly.

There will also be a question and answer session - I’ve got some good gossip if people ask the right questions.

CR: Do you consider yourself to be mainly a writer, performer or comedian?

ST: I like all of it - I get to do so many different things; writing the books,the radio shows [Toksvig is chairman of Radio 4’s The News Quiz] and television [she is a regularly panellist on QI]. I’ve got a play opening soon, and a new quiz show for Channel 4... I like the variety. I do also love writing; in a room on my own, enjoying the peace and quiet.

CR: You pop up quite regularly on the BBC comedy panel show QI, but not many women do - why do you think that is?

ST: I really don’t know - I think they must fear us. I’m good friends with some of the other women who appear on QI, including Jo Brand, but they never put us on together. It’s very rare that there are two women on the same panel. It’s odd, because there’s lots of women who appear on the News Quiz.

CR: You’ve had a long and successful television and radio career, but a lot of people in their 30s or so fondly remember you for your time on No. 73, the 1980s ITV Saturday morning show. Did you enjoy being involved in children’s television?

ST: No 73 was the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on. I was fresh out of uni, straight into a TV job that lasted six years. I didn’t particularly aim to work in children’s television - I never really had a career plan. I’d been in Footlights at Cambridge, and joined The Comedy Store Players [an improvisational comedy group based at London’s Comedy Store club]. Whose Line Is It Anyway? [Channel 4’s long-running improv show] came out of that, and one thing led to another.

My secret is that I never say no to anything. Well, it has to be of a certain standard; I avoid anything with “celebrity” in the title. I was asked to do the dancing one, but I decided that I’ve coped so far without learning how to tango, so I can probably live without it.

Sandi Toksvig will perform My Valentine at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Saturday, September 15.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on August 23, 2012

Darby winner - review of Rhys Darby

Rhys Darby: This Way To The Spaceship, at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Tuesday, July 10

I WAS a little bit naughty last Tuesday - slap bang in the middle of the Newbury Comedy Festival, on the night I had the pick of John Shuttleworth at New Greenham Arts, Daniel Simonsen and Dr Brown at Arlington Arts and the You Must Be Joking final at The Corn Exchange,I skipped town altogether and snuck off to Basingstoke to see Rhys Darby (aka Rhysiebabes, as I will always call him). I know, it was treacherous of me, but the opportunity to see a Hollywood actor and the man behind a cult comedy character (as Flight of the Conchords’ Murray Hewitt) in action was irresistible. And I’m a sucker for the Kiwi accent.

I had no regrets about my decision; Rhys Darby’s show - based on his book of the same name - was delightful. A constructed piece of theatrical performance rather than pure stand-up, the show looked back at a number of crucial incidents in Murray’s early life which may - or, may not - have led to him being one of the chosen ones to be evacuated into space as a human worth saving when the world ends. This construct wasn’t terribly well explained at the beginning of the show, but no particular matter - it wasn’t Brecht, so I suspect most audience members who hadn’t read any pre-show blurb picked up the general gist pretty quickly.

The show was introduced by Darby in character as Bill Napier, a Kiwi wildlife ranger (and Darby’s alleged security guard), bearing an uncanny resemblance in appearance and tone to Home & Away’s Alf Stewart, whose powerful “tree of life” salute is bound to be a hit among the kids in the know by the end of the year. Napier was a lovely character, and I would have been quite happy for him to stay on (although I presume that providing your own warm-up must have some downsides for a performer), as “proper” support act, fellow Kiwi Jamie Bowen, was a surprisingly fast talker for a Kiwi (who I always thought to be laid-back in dictation), meaning that some of his jokes and ukulele -backed lyrics were rather swallowed up in The Anvil’s auditorium.

Back as “himself”, Darby launched into the space-set look back on key moments in his life as a socially awkward child and teenager - basically a showcase for his physical comedy, sound effects, mime and and dance skills. I really must read his book to see how he manages to tell the same story in print. The moral of the story was the rather sweet (if not entirely printable) motto: “Keep being yourself, and eventually you’ll find someone who digs your s**t”. Bless. What a potty-mouthed darling Rhysiebabes is.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, July 19, 2012

Darby day - interview with Rhys Darby

NEW ZEALANDERS are officially easy-going - it was confirmed in an academic study last year - but I was pushing the laid back nature of a nation, when owing a series of “hilarious” phone-related issues, I was half an hour late in ringing Kiwi comedian Rhys Darby in his Los Angeles hotel room to chat to him about his forthcoming UK tour.

Fortunately, Darby did his country proud, and did not emit a single grump about my tardiness (oh, and apologies to the lady in Newbury whom I unintentionally phoned four times in my attempts to call California. I did wonder why a swanky LA hotel had a receptionist with a West Berkshire accent).  

I’’ve always been a sucker for a Kiwi accent (blame Neil Finn from Crowded House. No, really. In his younger days, he was hot. Trust me.), and as Darby didn’t seem to mind me calling him “Rhysybabes”, as befits anyone with the first name “Rhys”, my fluster soon passed, and much relaxed chat ensued. Well, 15 minutes’ worth of relaxed chat, anyway. I was ringing from my in-laws’ landline, so I had to watch the clock.

And so, with the time ticking away at premium international rate, I got on with the questions...

CATRIONA REEVES: The show you’re about to tour in the UK is called This Way To The Spaceship - and you’ve written a book with the same title as well. What’s all that about, then?

RHYS DARBY: The idea is that when Armageddon arrives, which it’s going to at the end of 2012, the superpowers have got spaceships ready with an invite list of those who will be allowed on board. Naturally, as I’m currently making waves in Hollywood, I’ll be on the list.

But I don’t want it to just be me, I want others to make it on board as well, so This Way To The Spaceship is basically my advice on how to open a few doors at parties, finding the right doors in the first place, fashion tips, conversation advice; how to work your way in with the right people and achieve your dreams.

The book is on the same theme, so the live show is basically the book interpreted through the mediums of physical stand-up, storytelling and dance.

The book has been published in Australia and New Zealand, but at the moment there’s no UK distributor. I’ll be bringing some copies with me though, for people to buy at the show. It kinds of puts a bit of mystique around the book - you’ve got to see the show to buy the book.

CR: Maybe you should give a free copy of the book to each audience member, as part of the ticket price.

RD: Mmmmm.

CR: You mentioned that there’s some dancing in the show...

RD: ... Yes. I have been compared to a sea serpent trying to mate. Off-season...

CR: ... but also, I understand that you include some dinosaur impressions.

RD: Oh yes, I’ve fed a couple of dinosaurs into the show. Not literally. I do a good t-rex, pterodactyl, velociraptor...

CR: Ooh. That could be a problem. We’ve already got a British comedian called Hugh Dennis who does a magnificent velociraptor.

RD: Maybe we should have a dinosaur impression showdown. He can be a velociraptor, and I’ll be a pterodactyl and swoop down on him.

CR: Right. Anyway, you’re best known as Murray, the band manager in the sitcom Flight of the Conchords (shown in the UK on BBC4). There’s been rumours of a film based on the series flying around for ages - any truth in them?

RD: We had a ‘secret band meeting’ a couple of weeks ago, but nothing’s really progressed yet. We want to do something, but it’s down to them [fellow Kiwis Brett McKenzie and Jemaine Clement, the musical/comedy duo who go by the name Flight of the Conchords and write/star in the series], and they’re pretty busy touring at the moment.

CR: So what are you up to in LA at the moment? Schmoozing and swinging your way into the film industry, or would you prefer to do more television?

RD: Whatever tickles my fancy. I like doing TV, because it’s more like a normal job - it lasts longer, and you get to know everyone working on it, so it becomes more like a family. Saying that, I did have a big US sitcom, and moved over here last year to work on it - and it got cancelled after just a few episodes. It was good that it was in a way; it was tightly scripted, with set up punchlines and American fake laughter. It didn’t stretch me. I like things looser and more improvised.

CR: You played one of the pirate radio DJs in Richard Curtis’ film The Boat That Rocked - that had the feel that you were all working as a family and improvising a lot of the time.

RD: We had a lot of fun on that film. We were all on the boat down in Southampton a lot of the time, and when we did our bits on the radio mic, we were really allowed to let lose and do what we wanted.

The most interesting day was when I was thrown in the ocean and nearly drowned. I was meant to be struggling to swim, but the wet suit I was wearing under my costume was making me too buoyant, so they put diving weights around my waist. I really started to struggle - so it may look like really good acting, but actually I was genuinely thinking I was going to drown.

CR: Your UK tour is going to be a far cry from LA - are you looking forward to it?

RD: Definitely. I’m also looking forward to seeing my wife and children who are going to be coming over to the UK for July and August. My two boys are six and two, and they don’t usually travel with me, so it’s going to be great to have them with me. We’re going to see all the sights. Are there any sights to see in Basingstoke?

CR: Yes. There’s Milestones, Hampshire’s Living History Museum. You can dress up in Victorian costumes, and walk around cobbled streets.

RD: Excellent. They’ll love that. We’ll have a ball in Basingstoke. Hopefully the show will be pretty good too.

* Rhys Darby brings his show, This Way To The Spaceship, to The Anvil in Basingstoke on Tuesday, July 10.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, June 28, 2012

Lovely... have I said that before? - review of Isy Suttie

Isy Suttie: Pearl And Dave, in The Forge at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Thursday, June 6

RIGHT: I’m going to set myself a challenge with this review. I used the word “lovely” or derivations thereof twice in my interview with Isy Suttie a few weeks ago, several times to her face after the Basingstoke show which I will be focussing on here, and a stonking four times in my last review of comedian Jimeoin. I even used it just now in reference to my toddler spooning rice pudding onto her shepherd’s pie. I have decided that I overuse the word, and I am therefore banning myself from using it any further after this paragraph in my write-up of Suttie’s show. Even though it was lovely (there - sneaked it in).

So, armed with a thesaurus, I will attempt to present to you the heart-warming charm of a one-woman show performed by Suttie (best known as Dobby in Channel 4’s Peep Show with a guitar, telling the story through monologue and song of  stifled Northern accountant Dave and equally repressed Surrey housewife Pearl. Having had a near-holiday romance a decade previously, the couple reignite their relationship in the modern manner on Facebook and Skype, finding a mutual bond through an understanding of each other missing from their everyday existence.

Suttie intertwined this imagined story with true (I presume) tales of her own disastrous lovelife prior to meeting her current partner; each relationship beginning with hope and ending with a symbol of doom, from the giant papier mache penguin watching accusingly from the corner of the room, to the boyfriend who took advantage of her sleeping on a train, not to write messages of love on her hand, but to colour it in entirely in black pen.

The telling was interspersed with songs performed in the voices of Pearl (high, rather posh) and Dave (deep, earthy) which demonstrated a delightful lack of self-consciousness on Suttie’s behalf, as her natural tone, showcased on a song written in schoolroom Welsh for her new partner, is actually very sweet.

Like master storyteller Daniel Kitson, the magic of Suttie’s performance was how perfectly truth and fiction interwove, as she was kept in the loop regarding the imagined blossoming relationship between Dave and Pearl through penpal letters from Dave, started in childhood when an addressed balloon freed by Suttie and destined for Australia ended up two gardens away. Such detailed touches made the telling spring to life, and left the audience glowing with delight for both the star-crossed titular couple and Suttie’s own hard-earned happiness. Truly captivating.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Suttie show: interview with Isy Suttie

LOVEABLE comedian Isy Suttie is on tour with a heartwarming show about internet romance and real-life dating disasters. Catriona Reeves spoke to her while on route from Birmingham to Berwick-Upon-Tweed.

CATRIONA REEVES: You’re currently on tour with a show called Pearl And Dave. Are you preparing for the Edinburgh Fringe?

ISY SUTTIE: This is actually the show I did at the Fringe last year, and also on Radio 4. I can’t do Edinburgh this year because I’ll be filming the next series of Peep Show over the summer. It’s actually nice to give my brain a bit of a break - if I had been developing a new show, I would have had to start thinking about it around Christmas.

CR: I thought Peep Show [Suttie plays quirky geek Dobby in the Channel 4 sitcom] had ended!

IS: We had a break from it last year so it hasn’t been on since 2010, but two more series have been commissioned. I’m really looking forward to going back to it. Everyone involved in it feels like family, and David [Mitchell] and Rob [Webb, who play the central characters] are a real laugh.

I’m lucky that I’ve ended up being able to do a mix of things; Peep Show, the touring, and I’m working on a sitcom pilot. I can’t imagine just doing the one thing. Touring as a stand-up can be a bit lonely, although it is a nice feeling that you’ve done it all yourself. 

Luckily I’ve got a support act with me on this tour - Chris Neill, who is in the car with me right now. We’re on our way from Birmingham to Berwick-upon-Tweed. We didn’t realise how far it was until we set off. It’s about a six hour drive!

CR: So tell me about the show Pearl And Dave...

IS: It’s the story of a couple who met at Butlins, then get in contact through Facebook many years later. I perform their emails to each other as songs. Then there’s stuff about my own love life over the years mixed in.

I’ve always performed songs in my shows; I can’t imagine doing something without music, as I’ve been songwriting since I was 11. But it’s taken a long time to get comfortable with a show format where I can fit everything together. Now I’ve found that having a narrative and singing in character really works best for me. It’s a bit more theatrical than what people might have previously seen me do.

CR: Are you planning to take the show further afield?

IS: I’d like to take it to Australia next year. I’ve performed in Australia before, and they’re very comedy savvy over there, so they’re happy to embrace something that’s a bit idiosyncratic. Generally though, I’m not that fussed about travelling. I like to go home to my own bed wherever possible - I’ll be able to do that after the Basingstoke gig.

CR: You seem like such a warm person; do you tend to attract a nice audience?

IS: My audiences are lovely. When Chris and I turned up at the Birmingham venue last night, we got a bit worried because it seemed to be full of rowdy hen parties, but then we found that we were performing in a different room, and there was my audience, with their anoraks and flasks. I was very relieved.

Isy Suttie brings her show, Pearl And Dave, to The Forge at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Wednesday, June 6. Anoraks and flasks are welcome.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, May 24, 2012

Stanhope of the States - review of Doug Stanhope

Doug Stanhope at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Friday, April 13

US COMEDIAN Doug Stanhope is an enigma. Lucid, erudite and socially aware one minute; shambling, verging on incoherent and downright dirty the next. I know which version of Stanhope I prefer, but then I’m a delicate flower. Likewise, the audience divided pretty much into diehard fans and “try it  outs”, a fair few of whom didn’t make it to the end. This, along with a smallish crowd (for The Anvil) of about 300, seemed to be pretty much accepted as all in a day’s work for Stanhope, who carried on regardless in his indomitable manner.

From an excellently-argued monologue about why the USA is a really great place to live despite its questionable governance, social organisation and legal system, to a dissection of his Twitter spat with Daily Telegraph journalist Allison Pearson which revealed a kind heart hiding somewhere within a maelstrom of vitriol and bile, Stanhope at his best was on the button with something really interesting to say, and the wit to present it well.

However, at other points, his act delved to the darkest depths of depravity, including an extended Aristocrats-style “joke” which I suspect is becoming daily more disgusting as the 30-date tour runs its course. Not my cup of tea at all, but the uproarious laughter from much of the audience belied my personal sensibilities.

I went to this gig knowing it was quite likely not to be all to my delicate tastes, and I’m not going to take umbrage with the bits that made me uncomfortable. In the end, no one got hurt, and unlike so many less intentionally offensive comedians, I can’t recall anything faintly misogynistic or endorsing of domestic abuse, which as I’m sure any regular readers of my reviews will have noticed, is my personal comedy bugbear.

Personally, I found the support act, comedian/guitarist Henry Phillips, to be more palatable to my fairly gentle tastes. Another American with a potty mouth, Phillips kept on the right side of mucky with songs which also showcased a true musical talent, including one written on the road  by himself, Stanhope, Stanhope’s partner Bingo (who received a cheer whenever she appeared to ply her man with more alcohol) and other crew members about the various hardships of touring in the UK. To be fair to Stanhope, there were a few obvious absences from the audience before he followed Phillips onto the stage, which was probably the right decision - if those people were shocked by Phillips, Stanhope might have made them pop.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, April 19, 2012

Joy division - review of Your Days Are Numbered

Your Days Are Numbered: The Maths of Death, at The Forge, Basingstoke on Thursday, February 9

ANYONE remember the early 90s when comedy was heralded as the new rock & roll? It wasn’t, of course, the new rock & roll turned out to be grunge, which made much more sense when you think about it. But 20 years on, I think it’s perfectly reasonable therefore to say that science (and maths) is the new comedy. Or, at least, that scientists (and mathematicians) are the new comedians. Yup, scientists with social skills. Who knew.

Among this breed are stand-up mathematician (or the mathemagician, as I will now call him) Matt Parker and science writer/performer Timandra Harkness who have devised a a jolly little show about the mathematics of death, investigating likely length of life and various ways it may be ended, through the wonder of statistics.

With the show set to come to New Greenham Arts in April, I am aware that I have a 99 per cent chance of giving away too much and therefore reducing potential attendance by roughly the same amount. However, I am also aware that the next phrase, while factually correct, could achieve that on its own: there were a lot of acturaries in the audience. And reference to Bayesian probability (which I just had to Google in order to spell correctly).

Don’t let that put you off, though. Really. As a mathematics numpty (AS-level predicted grade E - I didn’t bother taking the exam), I can confirm that you don’t have to be an actual actuary to enjoy the show. The concept of micromort - a unit of risk measuring a one-in-a-million chance of death - was clearly explained for us non-actural acturaries early on, making the facts that followed easier to grasp than chunking (a little joke thrown in by me for the primary school teachers among you).

I came away with the new knowledge that my plus-one is destined to meet his maker through auto-erotic asphyxiation (or suffocate in his own beard); that the likelihood of me writing a positive review increases exponentially when I am brought up onto the stage and plied with vodka; and that the stickers placed on the forehead of audience members to pronounce them dead during the 100-minute show (one minute equalling one year of life) are likely to take off approximately 50 per cent of an eyebrow when removed. None of which ever happened in a maths lesson when I was at school. I might have passed my AS-level maths if it had. Or had more fun trying.

* Assuming that Parker and Harkness survive the next two months, they will be at New Greenham Arts on April 12. While no audience members have died during a show on the tour so far; with a 0.000043 per cent chance that one could snuff it during any given performance, you can work out the risk of attending yourself.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, February 16, 2012

Stepping out of the shadows - review of Stephen Merchant

Stephen Merchant: Hello Ladies at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Friday, October 14

FOR a extremely tall bloke, Stephen Merchant has spent a long time in the shadow of his ebullient screenwriting partner Ricky Gervais (well, in fact, not so much in the shadow as stood behind him, with his head cropped off by photographers, as in an ignominious shot taken on stage at the Golden Globe Awards). But finally he has chosen to go it alone return to his stand-up comedy roots.

So be it because he doesn’t have to share the profits with “you-know-who” or wishing to forge a career in his own right when Gervais is living it up in Hollywood. Whatever the reason, it turns out that for all the hype of a performer who can book a large venue tour without the traditional stand-up slog of the Edinburgh Fringe and endless club slots, Merchant is a natural funnyman who can hold an audience of hundreds in the palm of his hand and tickle them until they giggle helplessly.

Based around the schtick that he can’t attract a potential wife, despite his top geek credentials (including a treasured Blue Peter badge which gains free entry into all sorts of attractions) and careful ways with money (always attractive in the early throes of romance), Merchant mixed self-deprecation and outrage (being called “Stephen Mitchell” throughout his first national press interview, and used as a landmark by a girl wishing to rendezvous with friends in Trafalgar Square on New Year’s Eve).

Playing on his gangly awkwardness and boggly-eyed features (and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible; he isn’t an unattractive man) to the max, Merchant’s onstage persona is generally the polar opposite to that of the often-spikey Gervais;  not just physically but in his easy likeability. Sure, there were echoes of Gervais’ stand-up performance when Merchant demonstrated (mock) false modesty in using his BAFTA in place of a baby in his audience-participatory staging of his GCSE Drama script Choices.

However, with much of Gervais’ own person having been developed through his screen characters of David Brent (The Office) and Andy Millman (Extras), both co-written with Merchant, any reflection was likely to come from Merchant’s own style rather than the inspiration of his writing partner.

Merchant’s management certainly know what they’re doing, with a forthcoming release of a tour DVD in time for Christmas, but quite rightly - I left wanting to see much more. Sadly aside from having an aversion to stand-up comedians performing in the arena-size venues that Merchant is more than likely to sell out on his next tour, I fear that his Transatlantic television writing/acting career may mean that such solo shows may not be as regular an occurrence as would be desired. In the meantime, I would be happy to find Merchant in my stocking on Christmas Day... if you see what I mean.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, October 20, 2011

Bittersweet - Marc Almond review

Marc Almond at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Friday, November 12

SINGER Marc Almond has always been something of a chameleon so it could have been a bit of a gamble to see if he was going to provide a big crowd with the songs they knew. However, he is currently celebrating his 30 years in the business with a tour subtitled ‘My Best Bits’, so on this occasion it was a safe bet that the best-loved releases were going to feature strongly.

Almond’s ‘Best Bits’ were described as “hits and A-sides”, possibly a tongue-in-cheek nod to the fact that after his band Soft Cell’s flurry of Top Five singles in the early 80s, his solo releases have often missed the charts; his duet with Gene Pitney, Something's Gotten Hold Of My Heart, being the biggest exception when it hit the top spot in 1989.

However, Almond’s three-decade career gave him plenty of well known electro-pop classics, torch songs and leftfield covers to pull out of the bag with a magnificent flourish. Backed by a four-piece band he never failed to entertain, putting his all into the songs he must have sung so many times before, and donning a wonderfully showy gold lame jacket for part of his performance.

There is a faint nasal quality to Almond’s voice which probably prevents him from being considered one of the truly great singers, but this is overridden by a passion which breathes heart and soul into every song. This is made all the more evident when the music doesn’t so easily lend itself to impassioned vocals, such as the strident hi-NRG beat of 1995’s Brilliant Creatures or Soft Cell’s cold, stripped down synthpop version of Tainted Love.

What was a pleasant surprise was that for such a flamboyant performer Almond was not aloof or precious; happy to chat, he explained that a plaster on his finger was the result of a peck by his parakeet. Although his biggest hits put in their deserved showstopping appearances - Soft Cell’s Torch and What, and 90s solo releases Jacky and The Days of Pearly Spencer - he also had some treats for the real fans, such as less-remembered Soft Cell single Where The Heart is, and a couple of quite amiable songs off recent album Variete.

Early Soft Cell hit Say Hello, Wave Goodbye gave the show the perfect encore, eliciting a pretty impressive rendition of an entire chorus by the audience alone, along with plenty of jocular waving at the stage. However, the real goosebump moment was produced by Something’s Gotten Hold Of My Heart. Gene Pitney may have passed away in 2006 - in fact, one of his final concerts was at The Anvil, just days before his death - but however much Almond may miss his former collaborator, his powerful solo rendition of the song lacked nothing for being performed alone.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, November 18, 2010